


red lipstick

by lusterrdust



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Love, Oneshot, Romantic Fluff, Teen Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusterrdust/pseuds/lusterrdust
Summary: "She pulls the passenger mirror down and wipes her red lipstick off, smudging the color across her skin and marking it in a way that reminds Jughead of bee stung lips after a kiss." [bughead, au]





	red lipstick

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to my chica, finnsxprincess, for being my beta reader (tho I did tweak more stuff after she sent the work back lol love you girl!)  
> (that's her tumblr name btw, go check her out!)
> 
> hope you all enjoy this oneshot xoxo

 

> ▱◯♕
> 
> _“You are my dearest friend,  
>  my deepest love, you are  
>  the best of me.”_  
>  _—Nicholas Sparks_
> 
> ◯
> 
>  

It's somehow always been Archie.

Since they were kids, him watching Betty give her extra stick of gum to his red-headed best friend, to the doting gaze she started to develop well into their middle school and then high school years. Jughead had seen the movies, heard the stories and yet, here he was, witnessing the sad and pathetic view of unrequited love.

Betty loves Archie, Archie loves Veronica, and Veronica loves anything with shine or sparkle. And Jughead? He loves food.

Food is simple. Uncomplicated.

You eat it, you feel good. Simple.

What’s not simple? The feeling arising in his stomach after witnessing a teary-eyed Betty Cooper hiding behind the dumper at Pop’s one breezy evening in July.

She’s wearing a white summer dress and her lips look darker today, like the cherries he loves to pluck off his milkshakes. But it’s her eyes that make him pause; they’re vibrant blue, like the crashing waves he feels rumbling around in his stomach right now.

Okay, sure. He likes Betty Cooper as well. But he knows the chances of her returning his feelings are leveled with that of him becoming a vegan. Slim to none.

See? Sad and pathetic unrequited love.

Sighing in defeat, Jughead stuffs his hands into his pockets and wanders over to her.

“Betts?”

She doesn’t move but he assumes she’s heard him walking up. Refraining from sighing again, Jughead shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over her shoulders before crouching beside her. Her arms cross and her fingers grip the collar of his jacket before she looks up at him, her nose red and runny.

Jughead thinks Archie’s an idiot.

The girl in front of him, she has an otherworldly type of beauty. Perhaps not as sultry as Veronica, but Betty has an old charm to her. A natural gorgeousness that constantly gives him that weird twist to his stomach any time she smiles his direction.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jughead raises a brow, his crouch lowering into a seated position beside her.

Betty sniffs loudly and scoots into his side, resting her head against his shoulder as he stiffens in surprise at the movement. The smell of strawberries and cream overwhelm his senses, and he quickly realizes it’s the scent of her hair.

“Archie stood me up.” Betty answers after a minute as Jughead hums noncommittedly. “He was supposed to meet me here an hour ago.”

“Well,” Jughead drawls awkwardly, “if it helps, you weren’t exactly missing much on Pop’s menu. You know the special’s been the same for the last four years.”

Betty doesn’t smile.

Jughead frowns.

“Is it me?” she asks quietly, still looking ahead with the tracks of her mascara staining the soft skin of her undereye like some type of war paint.

Jughead blinks. “What?”

Turning her head toward him, Betty sniffs and runs a hand under her nose before bringing her eyes up to his. “Is it me, Jug? Am I just…I don’t know, not good enough?”

Anger for Archie fuels hotter than before as Jughead hears the uncertain words in his blonde friend’s question. He shakes his head adamantly, his tone tinged with a bit of incredulity. “No! God, Betty, you’re—Archie’s an idiot.”

Her lashes flutter in surprise at his heated reply, and Betty licks her lips as her eyes flicker over his face. But Jughead isn’t quite finished. If there is any person deserving of love in the shitty world they find themselves in, Jughead knows it’s Betty. “You’re _too_ good for him, and you deserve a lot more than anyone in this town.”

In all the time he’s known her, growing up and developing a friendship close to, and arguably on the same level as Archie, Jughead believes Betty is a person of her own kind. He’s never met anyone as loyal, funny, spirited or kind as her.

He remembers the day his mom left with Jellybean, he remembers going up to his treehouse to see Betty there, her thirteen-year-old self completely unaware to the colossal shift in his life. She’d snuck up as a surprise with a tray of homemade brownies. He remembers not being able to control the turbulent emotions inside him as he broke down, crying and startling the younger girl before she pulled him for a hug.

She asked no questions. Demanded no answers.

Betty merely hugged him and let him cry.

And then she did the most amazing thing of all… she didn’t speak a word of it to anyone. His moment of vulnerability was kept between them, and he couldn’t have felt more gratitude for her than that.

Her stare now, however, is heavy and full of questions he doesn’t have the stomach to answer. So, instead, Jughead stands up and offers her his hand. Helping her to her feet, he shrugs off her attempt to give his jacket back and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“Give it back later.” He says before nodding to Pop’s. “Get a milkshake with me?”

Betty gives a chuckle, the sound of it funny with her stuffy nose. Her arms slide into the sleeves of his jacket and Jughead wonders if he’d just cursed himself because now it’s going to be completely drenched in her scent.

“Jughead Jones offering to pay for food?” she teases, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I’ll take it before you change your mind.”

Jughead doesn’t respond that he’d never change his mind on buying her a meal; he merely stays silent.

“Hold on.” She runs her fingers through her hair, the blonde waves loose for once. She then moves her hands to wipe at her face. “Do I look okay?”

The smudges of her makeup are still there, and her nose is a little puffy and red. Her eyes, slightly bloodshot move up to his own as her teeth bite down on her lip. Jughead lets his eyes drag over her features for a split second longer than he’s sure is appropriate before responding honestly.

“You look beautiful.”

…. …. ….

It’s somehow not about Archie anymore.

It’s during the beginning of their senior year that Jughead notices the shift in dynamic between his friends. Veronica becomes busier as her father pays for excessive amounts of activities outside of school for her. Jughead witnesses Betty turning down _two_ separate dates from Archie as the redhead remains oblivious to her slow but sure separation from him, all the while keeping sure to remain on Veronica’s heels. And for himself, Jughead keeps busy with writing and food.

Studying at Archie’s house, Jughead catches a glimpse of their blonde friend getting ready for one such date with some football player named Trevor. It’s different than when she goes out with Archie, though.

Jughead can’t shake the strange feeling in his gut.

It makes him lose his appetite, and the discovery horrifies him.

Why should he care who Betty goes out with? Sure, she’s his best friend and he kind of has feelings for her, but this isn’t the first time she’s gone out.

Maybe it’s because it’s not Archie.

 All Jughead can think about is how he knows absolutely _nothing_ about this Trevor fellow; and if locker room conversations are anything to go off on, the majority of jocks on the team are a bunch of sexist assholes looking to compare every woman they hook up with little to no respectability.

He _shouldn’t_ worry though. Betty is beyond smart, and she’s sensible. She’s also tough and more than capable of taking care of herself.

Still… Jughead catches his eyes drifting up toward Betty’s window every few minutes without meaning to. She’s in her cheer outfit, curling her hair and singing into the mirror a song he’s sure he’d scrunch his nose up to if he could hear it.

“Hey, Arch.” Jughead turns toward his friend laying on his bed.

“Hm?”

He’s about to ask about Trevor before hesitation kicks in. Licking his lips, Jughead grimaces at his homework and glances toward Betty’s window again. “Uh, nothing. Never mind, I got the answer.”

“Are you on number twenty-six?” Archie lifts his head up from his own work. “That one confused me, too.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jughead nods, looking to his paper. “Yeah.”

When Archie looks down again and starts talking about something Jughead tunes out, he looks toward Betty’s window once more and feels his mouth run dry at the sight of her in her bra and underwear.

Of course, he’s seen Betty in bikini’s before, but this is different. He feels almost… pervy. His gaze is stuck on the curves of her body and the creamy look of her skin.

When she bends down to search through the drawers of her dresser, Jughead’s eyes widen as his face burns. His gaze snaps back to his work but the numbers of the math questions blur as the sound of his own heart pumping floods his hearing.

Snapping his textbook shut, Jughead gives his friend a lazy excuse and hightails it out of the house.

He’s at Pop’s in less than ten minutes and though he closes his eyes after his first burger, leaning his forehead against the glass window at his booth, the image of Betty is still implanted in his mind. The vision eventually shifts and morphs until he’s beside her, running his hands over her hips and into the dips of her waist.

Jughead groans and stuffs a handful of fries into his mouth.

Pulling out his laptop, he’s lost in the world of his writing before the familiar voice haunting his thoughts all day break his concentration.

“All work and no play makes Jug a dull boy.”

Startled, Jughead glances up from his screen and sees Betty slip into the seat across from him, her hand reaching over to grab a cold fry off his plate.

Licking his lips, Jughead stays quiet a moment too long, as proven by the way Betty’s eyebrows crinkle together in concern at his silence. He immediately sits up and clears his throat.

Nodding to his empty glasses, he raises a brow at her. “You set them up and I’ll knock them back one by one.”

Giggling slightly, Betty steals another fry and pushes the empty drinks to the end of the table. “I already ordered you a root-beer float.”

Blinking in surprise, Jughead smiles. “This is why you’re my favorite person, Betts.”

Instead of a witty retort like he expects, Jughead is taken aback when the apples of Betty’s cheeks are dusted with a tinge of pink. His mouth goes dry again and the word ‘ _beautiful’_ flickers across his thoughts in that moment of silence between them.

When Pop (bless his timing) walks over and drops two root-beer floats on the table, Jughead looks at the clock and realizes it’s only been two hours since he first came in. Turning back to Betty, he frowns slightly.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” he asks, feeling a twinge of worry when her chin ducks down and her eyes skitter across the table nervously. Embarrassment from earlier disappears instantly as he leans forward, a sharper edge to his tone when he speaks. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”

Bright eyes widening and back on his, Betty shakes her head, sending her curls swaying at the motion. “What? No! No, nothing like that. I…” she bites her lip before sighing, her blush spreading out even further. “…Okay, don’t laugh.”

Jughead’s brows raise in intrigue.

“I… it wasn’t really a date.” Betty admits quietly, looking over her shoulder before turning back to him. “I was undercover, trying to dig up information on Jason for Polly. You know, get details from the inside.”

Like a balloon, Jughead deflates with the exhale he expels.

He suddenly feels like a pressure’s been lifted off his chest. He wants to question himself as to why he feels this way, but Jughead isn’t stupid. He knows exactly why.

The feelings he’s had for Betty Cooper have lingered for years in the deep corners of his heart, only reemerging now to be dusted off in light of her newfound romantic independence. She hasn’t gone on a date with Archie in months, and he hasn’t seen her cry over him in even longer. He fidgets in his seat and twirls the cup in his hands, feeling the condensation on the tips of his fingers while moving forward to take a drink.

“Find what you were looking for?” he asks, lips still on his straw.

“Yep.” Betty nods before folding her arms on the table. “Mission successful.”

“Detective Cooper.” Jughead grins, “I’d love to see you undercover.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out as some double entendre, but he watches Betty’s face flush scarlet before his own cheeks heat up at her reaction. “Uh…”

Covering her mouth, Betty giggles in a weird pitch before it morphs into infectious laughter. With twitching lips to keep his embarrassed amusement in, Jughead ultimately fails and joins.

“Oh, Juggie.” She shakes her head after a minute, raising her finger to wipe at her eye. “You’ve always had an eloquent way with words.”

“They don’t call me smooth talker for nothing.” He quips with wry amusement.

Betty raises a skeptical brow in response. “ _Who_ calls you that?”

Jughead picks his spoon up and scoops a piece of vanilla ice cream into his mouth. “Me.”

She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

That night, Jughead drives Betty home.

“Park right here.” Betty tells him from the front seat of his truck when they arrive a few houses away from her own. Jughead doesn’t ask why. He knows since Polly’s recent ‘night outs’ with her boyfriend, Alice has had their home on lock-down. Truthfully, he’s surprised Betty’s even allowed out, right up until she tells him her mom thinks she’s having dinner over at Veronica’s.

She pulls the passenger mirror down and wipes her red lipstick off, smudging the color across her skin and marking it in a way that reminds Jughead of bee stung lips after a kiss. “Ronnie said Archie picked her up thirty minutes ago. They’re having dinner at _Le_ _Cercle Rouge_.”

Betty catches him staring and his eyes follow the drag of her thumb over her lower lip as he wonders if they taste like she smells— _strawberries and cream._

“Juggie?”

“Are you upset?” he blurts out, eyes flickering back up to her own. “About Veronica and Archie?”

Betty gives him a strange look before tilting her head. “I’m the one who gave them the recommendation.”

Jughead’s heart skips and stutters.

“Archie is my friend, and so is Veronica.” She tells him lightly with a small shrug. “I think… I think I was so caught up with how I felt for him, I didn’t take in account that he didn’t feel as strongly. I got swept up in the idea of ‘romance’,” her fingers move up to air quote the word, “…I don’t want to be someone’s second choice, Jug.”

Jughead can’t imagine anyone being foolish enough to have Betty Cooper as a second choice.

Her eyes, bright and piercing and blue like the glistening waters, they stare at him heavily. Her gaze is a weight on his chest, pressing the air out of it with each second passed. Her hand lowers to the seat between them and he can feel the heat of her skin just a hair’s breath away. Like sparks, he feels her energy around him, filling the small space of his truck and sucking the oxygen from his lungs.

“I want to be someone’s first choice.” Betty whispers.

The lowering of her eyes to his lips is all the incentive he needs to stretch his fingers out, the tips of them covering her own. Heart thudding in his chest, he nosedives into the unknown.

Jughead lowers his head and kisses her.

Her small gasp gets swallowed in the entanglement of their lips, and he feels his body shake when her hand cups his cheek. He can taste Betty’s smudged lipstick, he can taste the vanilla ice cream she’d eaten earlier.

“Jughead,” she whispers with eyes closed, her hand trembling against his skin. If there wasn’t such a raw undertone to his spoken name, Jughead would’ve been worried he’d crossed a line. But, Betty parts her lips and his mind shatters into a thousand particles of stardust as her tongue slides against his.

She moans and heat spreads throughout his body in a rapid flame.

Gaining some semblance of control, Jughead pulls away and stares dazedly as Betty’s eyes flutter open. Lips parted and plump, he stares at the shine of them under the dim glow of the streetlamp they’re parked beside.

He licks his own lips and resists the urge to fidget in his seat to relieve some of the strain his body has developed in the impromptu make out.

Betty exhales quietly, the breath tickling his cheeks before she speaks and seizes all sense of mobility with her words. “That was different than what I’ve imagined.”

“What?” Jughead chokes, staring incredulously at her as the words register. “Imagined? You… thought of that before?”

“Jughead Jones,” Betty chuckles breathlessly, biting her lip as her finger moves to tug the curl dangling over his eye. “You’re not serious, are you?”

He is serious. _Very_ serious.

Jughead hadn’t even thought he was a blimp on Betty’s radar. He doesn’t need to answer however, as she continues.

“I’ve… You’re my best friend.” She tells him shyly, looking up through her lashes in a way that causes a fluttering feeling to rise in his stomach. “You’ve always been there for me. I was just… too distracted to see it. Until I did.”

There’s really no other way to describe the moment Jughead’s experiencing other than surreal.

“And you were different, but the same.” Betty explains, looking as though she’s struggling to put her exact thoughts into words. She huffs in frustration and drops her hands into her lap. “I’m sorry—I don’t, I was just telling you I didn’t want to be second choice, and I don’t want you to feel like that’s what you are to me.”

“I don’t think that.” He tells her, interrupting her rambling.

“You don’t?” Betty grimaces unsurely at his simple response as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You said so yourself.” He says slowly, gathering his thoughts. “It was different.”

Betty’s eyes flicker over his face as her own soften. There’s a stretch of a moment in silence before she speaks again.

“You told me I was beautiful.” She says quietly, confusing him slightly at what she’s talking about before elaborating. “At Pop’s, you told me I was beautiful… all those months ago.”

Jughead remembers that day vaguely. Betty had been crying over Archie, _again_. And while he doesn’t quite remember their exact exchange, he remembers _thinking_ she looked beautiful.

“And I went to the bathroom and I looked hideous.” Betty continues softly, biting her lip as her eyes become a bit glossier. “There was snot and makeup all over my face, but…you said I was beautiful. And it sounded so sincere, like you meant it.”

“I did.” Jughead answers automatically.

If there’s one thing he remembers in vivid clarity, it’s that Betty _did_ look beautiful. He knows for certain because there’s never a day she _doesn’t_.

At his response, Betty’s head tilts back up to look at him. Her eyes hold his own as she studies him, and without warning, her lips are back on his.

Soft like a feather, Jughead barely has a chance to respond with eager reciprocity before she’s pulling away.

There’s a blush over her cheeks as Betty regards him with a bright smile she’s trying to contain through the dig of her front teeth on her lower lip. When she speaks, her words are lilted with an air of nervous hope. “Do you—Would you like to get dinner with me tomorrow?”

Jughead purses his lips to keep from beaming like an idiot and instead nods with a small grin. “Pick you up at six?”

“Okay.” Her eyes regard him tenderly as her shoulders ease at his response. “Tomorrow then.”

He nods again, heart racing in his chest. “It’s a date.”

When she slips out of his truck, one demure look over her shoulder before sprinting to her house, Jughead sits still for a minute. He takes a moment to register everything that’s happened before pressing a finger to his lips.

When he pulls it away, there’s red lipstick on his fingertip and he’s helpless to the dopey smile that splits across his face before he drives off into the night.

Betty's red lipstick, it tastes like strawberries. 


End file.
